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Stepping backward, I grab a fistful of his shirt and drag him with me. Off-balance, Ben stumbles forward.
My finger points to the bed. “You’re sleeping here tonight. With me.”
Quickly, I lean around him to push the door shut. Having told him the way of things, I walk to the bed and slip under the covers. Then, I hold up the blanket for him to join me. Ben stands in the middle of the room, eyes wide, mouth slack.
“Hurry. I’m getting cold.” But the shiver that runs through my body isn’t from the chilly air. The idea of having him pressed up against me all night is the source of the quivering.
Either way, it gets his feet moving. He sets his glasses on the table, and the bed dips slightly as he settles down next to me.
We lie, facing each other, not touching. Yet.
“Can you see me without those?”
We’re less than a foot apart, and his green eyes seem like they’re focused on my face.
Ben grins. “Nope. You’re just a blurry mass. You could be Jasper or a grizzly bear for all I know.”
“I’d hope my blurry mass is slightly smaller than a bear’s.” Then, I stick my tongue out at him and watch his eyes fall to my mouth, growing hot. I gasp in mock outrage. “You liar! You can totally see me!”
“No! I definitely can’t!” He shakes his head, grinning all the while. “Is that you, Holly?” His hand comes out from under the covers and lands on my face.
I snort as he plays. Then, I grab his rough palm and place a firm kiss right in the middle of it. At the affectionate gesture, Ben goes still, watching me. The intense scrutiny makes me bite my lip. His playful expression turns serious with a wrinkle above his eyebrows that I want to smooth out.
“We don’t have to do this, Holly.”
I roll my eyes but smile at his reassuring words. “I know. I want to. Do you?”
“Do I want to do what exactly?”
“Hmm. Parameters. Good idea.” Organization has always been my strong suit. I like clearly laid-out rules and plans. Why wouldn’t I appreciate that in a relationship, too? “Tonight is just the exploratory phase.”
“Exploratory phase?” He sounds confused, even as he grins at me.
“That’s right. Exploration. For example”—I prop myself up on an elbow, hovering over him—“I want to explore your mouth.”
Ben parts his lips as he stares up at me. Then, his eyelids grow heavy as my knuckles brush over the couple of days of scruff on his chin.
Even though I’m tempted to dive right in, I wait for his response.
Realizing this, his throat contracting, he swallows and nods.
That’s all I need.
Our kiss starts out slow, just a gentle brush of my mouth against his. When I’m this close to him, the scent of mint and pine fills my nose, sending shivers of delight skittering over my skin.
His upper lip is just as soft as I imagined it.
The moment I peek my tongue out to swipe along the juicy treat, Ben bursts into movement. One arm wraps around my waist, the other hand tangles in my hair, and both pull me flush against his solid, hot body.
Ben is a good … no, that’s not right.
Ben is an Olympic champion of a kisser. He belongs on a podium with a gold medal dangling around his neck in the sport of worshipping my mouth.
His passion doesn’t reveal itself in a hard, brutal claiming, but instead, he holds me firm against him for a slow, languid perusal. Some guys approach kissing like they’re shotgunning a beer, only chasing the intoxication that comes afterward. Ben kisses me like I’m a top-shelf whiskey, and he loves the taste.
Only I’m the one who gets drunk on our kissing. My muscles liquefy, and I sink into him.
The hand he has in my hair remains where it is, but the other explores, traveling across my body. Through the kissing haze, I feel him stop in certain places. The tips of his fingers run over my shoulder blades before pressing each vertebrate on my spine, playing me like a piano. He circles his arm around my waist again, clutching me close for a moment and groaning low in his throat. He releases that hold, only to slide his hand to my backside. Through the thin soft flannel, his long fingers spread over one of my cheeks before giving me a firm squeeze. A gasp escapes my mouth, and he locks our lips together, as if he wants to swallow the sound.
